This Sickness is Heavy
by King Sirahk
Summary: Akihito is sick and this goon is blocking his way into the penthouse like he owns the place. Thank God, there's speed dial.


Akihito was sick and this fucking goon was standing in his way like a troll guarding the bridge to the enchanted castle.

He wanted to go bed.

He wanted to go upstairs and lay down and not throw up.

He _wanted_ to not look at anything except the back of his eyelids.

He _wanted_ to take off his stupid vintage jeans which have become itchy, annoying, and constricting and crawl under his favorite soft blanket and sleepfor a week.

He _wanted_ peace and quiet and absolutely no light.

He wanted this _fucker_ to move out of his _goddamn way_!

Akihito had returned after a very long seven hours of working at the studio dealing with amateur models and bitchy modeling agents. Critiquing his every snap, every flash of his camera, any sort of movement that he made, only being satisfied when the photo went in their direction that Akihito struggled to follow. His mind wasn't in it. His heart and talent barely made it through the door. He had woken up feeling off and it seemed that as the day progressed, the sickness had manifested into making him queasy, tired, and irritated.

He was glad that it was all over now. As soon as the day was called a wrap, Akihito was out the door. He had been daydreaming about his bed all day and he could hardly get home fast enough. He parked his Vespa in the underground parking deck and after a moment of dizziness which started a minute of nausea, slowly began the short trek up into the lobby, where an even shorter trek to the elevator was waiting for him.

That was until he came face to face with his current enemy.

A tall and wide man in a uniformed black suit, that quietly indicated to Akihito that he was one of Asami's men, stood by the entrance to the lobby and stared off into the parking deck, seeming to not care or notice Akihito's presence. Akihito didn't recognize him but he fit the bill of someone who was employed by Asami; all of them large, imposing men that seem to scream "DICK! DO NOT MESS WITH" just by standing quietly in a corner. Akihito has learned over time that a quick nod of acknowledgment was all the was needed and that any attempt of conversing with any of Asami's men was pointless.

He was walking by, not really paying attention, when an arm slammed into him.

"Where do you think you're going, kid?" A gruff voice asked.

Akihito looked up, a little confused and said, "Inside?"

"This apartment is for residents only." The man said.

"Right." Akihito said slowly, wondering if the guy didn't hear him.

"So, beat it." And with that, gave Akihito a small shove backward. The goon then looked back out into the parking garage, ignoring him.

Akihito was stunned and stood there for a moment and tried to process what was happening.

"But I do live here." He exclaimed and tried walking forward towards the door. The arm returned, hitting his shoulder and pushing him back so Akihito would stand adjacent to the guard. As the guard leaned in and jabbed his finger into Akihito's chest, Akihito suddenly got a whiff of the goon's body odor and the nausea that Akihito had managed to back down earlier reared its ugly head.

The bodyguard seemed to think that missing a shower after a two-day trek in a dumpster and then covering it up with cheap cologne was a _great_ idea.

"Look, brat, I'm not gonna tell you again, this place is for residents only. As in, you have to live here to walk through the door." The guard snarled, stabbed his finger into Akihito's chest with each punctuation. Each jab seemed to activate the stench even more and Akihito could barely swallow down the bile that was creeping up his throat.

"Yeah, I heard and I just told you that I _do_ live here." Pushing past the nausea, frustration was beginning to creep into Akihito voice. It didn't help when the man scoffed at him. "You need a passcode to even park down here! If I didn't live here, how would I be able to park?"

The goon didn't answer instead he stepped back and choose to continue to believe that Akihito didn't exist.

Akihito groaned. "Look, asshole, I do live here. I know I don't look like the "stereotypical person" that lives in this place but I have a passcode, I even have a key to the top floor. I fucking live with your boss! I'm Takaba Akihito. Are you brand-fucking-new? Did you not get the memo about who I am?" Normally, Akihito wouldn't be throwing his name around; it doesn't carry any weight, but this guy was pissing him off!

He figured that Asami had Kirishima delivered some sort of memo about him, stating all sorts of rules from guarding to interacting with him. He thought (or hoped) that would be the "password" that Akihito needed to get inside so he can go to sleep.

Apparently not.

"I don't give a fuck about who you are. Get lost or I'll make you get lost." The smelly goon growled.

Akihito rubbed his temple, raked his hand through his hair and tried not scream. The fatigue was getting to him and the only reason he wasn't kicking this asshole in the shins was because he didn't have the energy to run.

For a moment, he thought about going and crashing at Kou's place but by now traffic was both ridiculous and mind numbing. He turned, almost walked back to his Vespa but stopped and sat down on a bench that sat off to the side for smokers. He breathed deeply, which was a mistake as any lingering cigarette smoke around him filled his lungs. His stomach turned again. He looked away, took a couple of small breaths in and waited for the queasiness to pass. He turned his head back at the goon who was standing by the door, ignoring him.

Realizing what he would have to do to get inside, he called out to the guard, "I just want you to know, that you brought this on yourself. I didn't want to go there but I'm sick and tired and I don't have time to deal with your bullshit right now. But I will give you one more chance to just let me in, okay? And we can forget that this whole thing even happened." He waited a moment for a response but received none.

So, he pulled out his phone.

"Remember," He said, unlocking his phone and going to his call log, "you brought this on yourself."

He clicked on the first contact under speed dial and waited. He stared the guard down, watched him cross his arms, a deeper frown forming on his face, waiting to see what Akihito would do.

Two rings and, "Akihito, this is certainly a surprise." Akihito closed his eyes and let Asami's voice wash over him. Asami's smooth, rich voice spoke into his ear, amused that Akihito would be calling him at this time of day. His voice calmed Akihito's nerves. He hadn't heard from or seen Asami in three days. They seemed to be missing each other lately due to either's work schedule. All that Akihito's seen is a shadow; a dirty dish in the sink, the smell of Dunhill cigarettes from the balcony, a dent in the bed that they share together. He hated to admit it, but it was nice to hear Asami's voice after so long and especially after how terrible this day turned out to be.

"Asami," Akihito whined, dragging out Asami's name unnecessarily, "I don't feel good and your goddamn goon isn't letting me into the apartment."

"What?" He sounded like he didn't know what Akihito was talking about, so Akihito clarified. "You have a gargoyle blocking the entrance to the lobby and is refusing to let me in because I don't look like I live here." Akihito said, loudly and pointedly, making sure that the gargoyle in question could hear him.

"Where are you?" Asami asked.

"I'm in the parking garage on the smoker's bench." Akihito heard some rustling of paper over the phone. He doesn't mean to interrupt Asami while he's working but this was an emergency of great importance (minor annoyance, actually but Akihito doesn't care).

"Hmm, what happened when you tried to walk in?"

Akihito sighed, "Well, he uh," he looked to the guard, "Remember, this is the part where it's your fault." He paused, before continuing, "He shoved me back and told me to get lost. Also, he stinks. Literally. Which isn't help with my wanting to throw up-ness."

Asami was eerily quiet for a moment. Akihito winced, imagining a small dark cloud beginning to form over the crime lord's head. He almost felt sorry for the goon.

"What's his name?" Asami calmly asked.

"I don't know, Asami. Nametags are exactly part of your men's uniform." Akihito sassed.

"Brat." Asami said, with a teasing tone, somehow enjoying Akihito's snark. "Why don't you ask him?"

"Uh, Asami, he's not exactly talking to me. Currently, he's scowling and pretending I don't exist. He's probably waiting for an opening to kick my ass, if I'm honest." Akihito leaned his head back, getting comfortable on the bench and letting Asami's voice wash over him, listening to the quiet expressions that lace his words.

"He could try." Asami replied.

Akihito snorted, "I don't feel like taking that chance today. He would definitely win."

"Just ask him what his name is." Asami insisted.

 _The bastard needs learn how to say 'please'..._ Akihito thought to himself. He rolled his eyes and retorted, "Fine, bastard, hold on."

Akihito dropped the phone a bit from him mouth and called out to the guard, "Oi, you gotta name? Your boss would like to know." He tried to emphasize on the boss part, giving the poor guy a chance to redeem himself.

A moment passes and no response.

"Wow, Asami, he's a real chatterbox. You know, you should really think about screening your men. Don't want them to be talking so much, like this guy here. They could give away precious secrets, like directions or general pleasantries."

"You know for someone who claims to be sick, you certainly are energized enough to be a smartass." Asami deadpanned.

"Shut up, I'm grumpy and the sarcasm is the only thing helping me not throw up right now."

"Hmmm, give him the phone."

"What?" Akihito was uncertain if he heard Asami correctly.

"Give him the phone." Asami said. Nope, Akihito heard correctly.

"Why?" Akihito asked, "What if he breaks it? This is my only phone, Asami."

"I'll buy you another, it's about time you upgraded anyway." Asami said, like buying a brand-new smartphone wasn't a big deal. Then again, this was Asami. "Just give him the phone, Akihito."

Akihito protested weakly, "But Asami, he's so far." The walk to the lobby door where the brute stood seemed like miles away and the bench was getting comfortable as time went on.

"Akihito," Asami's voice was soft and Akihito really liked hearing his name in that tone, "I need you to give him the phone so that I can ask him what his name is."

"Ugh, fine."

"Besides, you'll have to be able to walk to the elevators by yourself. Unless you want to sleep on the metal bench…"

Akihito _did not_ want to sleep on the metal bench.

"Okay, okay, I'm getting up, you bastard." Opening his eyes, Akihito started standing up when his stomach began to twist. He quickly sat down, closed his eyes and tried to calm his stomach. His body felt uncomfortably hot and the urge to throw up became more apparent. He wasn't sure if he was going to be able to make it upstairs before he lost the battle to his stomach.

"Akihito? Are you alright?" Asami asked, concern seemed to creep into his voice.

"Mmm, yeah. Just give me a sec." He whispered, mostly to himself but he figured that Asami heard him.

He needed to get up, otherwise he was going to barf all over his shoes and the smell of stale smoke wasn't helping him anyway. Breathing through his nose, Akihito stood up, swayed a little bit but held steady. He sluggishly walked up the henchman, phone still close to his ear and made sure Asami could hear him, and said, "Hey, your boss wants a word." He held out the phone, clearly showing Asami's name as well as his blackmail contact photo of Asami sleeping with the mascot's head in his arms.

The guard's eyebrows furrowed and he looked at Akihito with confusion. He didn't take the phone.

Irritated, Akihito waved the phone in front of him, "The man who hired you? Your boss? The great Asami Ryuichi? He's on the phone. To talk to you." He said, slowly like the man's IQ was lower than 50, which at this point Akihito wouldn't be surprised, "He wants to know what your name is."

The man stared at Akihito with skepticism and still didn't take the phone.

"Take the goddamn phone." Akihito nearly shouted, almost throwing the device at the man's face.

Finally, the guard snatched the phone out of Akihito's hand and angrily asked, "Who is this?"

The gratification that entered Akihito's blood stream, as he watched the color leave the guard's face, was simply too sweet to bear.

He wanted to get in the man's face and laugh.

He wanted to scream, "I told you so, fucker!"

He wanted to do a victory dance with excessive finger pointing that wasn't necessarily his index fingers.

He wanted to be a total brat, stick his tongue out, and make rude faces at him.

He wanted to do all the above, grab his phone, and walk away satisfied that his opponent was defeated and then take a three-day nap.

However, what he was going to do, was throw up. As the feeling of nausea started to overtake him, Akihito quickly looked around for a trashcan but couldn't find one. He wasn't going to make into the lobby where there was a public restroom, right across from the elevators. He definitely wasn't going to make it upstairs in time. It would be rude to throw up in the lobby; the tile in the lobby cost more than his entire annual income over the past three years, combined.

He could throw up in the parking lot though. No matter how rich the building or it's inhabitance were, the parking deck was still just made of concrete.

Mind made, stomach approved, Akihito looked up at the guard as he was finishing his blubbering apology to Asami. Akihito stared at him, trying to give him some kind of warning what was about to happen, but it seemed that the guard was a little preoccupied. So, when the guard ended his very short conversation with his employer and began handing Akihito's phone back to him, Akihito held out his hand, urged him to wait and tried to step away.

He didn't step away fast enough because in the next moment, Akihito vomited all over the guard's slacks and shoes.

The guard froze, phone still in hand waiting for Akihito to take it, clearly in shock that this had happened.

Finally, Akihito managed to stop with a wet cough. He grimaced and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and gingerly stepped over his mess and took his phone out of the stunned man's hand.

"So, if you were threatening his family or livelihood, uh," Akihito said to Asami, paused to spit the taste of bile out of his mouth, "I think he's been thoroughly punished." He felt a little better, though now he really wanted to go to sleep. He walked to the door before he turned back at the man, still stunned from being puked on.

"I guess I'm good to go in, right?" He really didn't need to ask, he just wanted to be a little shit.

The guard looked like he wanted to yank Akihito away from the door and punch him but clearly, he valued his life so he merely nodded.

Akihito sheepishly smiled at the guard and said, "I would apologize but I don't really want to." It might have been his imagination, but he's pretty sure he heard some quiet laughter from his phone. This made him smile a little brighter. He lazily saluted the guard and continued through the doors and into the lobby.

"Are you alright?" Asami finally asked him as Akihito walked over to the elevators.

"Yeah, 'm just really tired now." Akihito said, quietly as the elevator doors opened. He walked in and pressed the button for the penthouse floor. Akihito closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall as the doors closed and he felt the small jolt of the elevator start its ascent. "'m in the elevator now."

"Alright. Get some rest and call me when you wake up."

"Wait, wait," Akihito said, he wasn't ready for Asami to go yet, "can't you just stay a little longer? Until I get inside the apartment? There might be another goon guarding the door and you'll have to scare them and then I'll have to puke on them."

Asami gave a small laugh, "I doubt someone would be at the penthouse door."

Akihito whispered, "Just stay?" His heart began to beat a little heavier in his chest. It was still hard for him to admit his feelings about Asami to himself, let alone _to_ Asami. But this quiet plea to Asami to not hang up and leave Akihito just yet was almost a confession in of itself. He just wasn't ready to lose Asami's voice in his ear. Asami knowingly saved him and unknowingly comforted him and because Akihito was sick right now, he could be a little more open about his feelings.

Asami was quiet. Akihito instantly felt sick again and wanted to take back what he had embarrassingly revealed. He opened his mouth to tell Asami never mind when Asami softly replied, "Alright, I'll stay. For a few more minutes, at least."

Akihito released a breath and said, "Okay."

The elevator dinged, telling Akihito he has reached his floor. The doors opened and revealed the penthouse door, unoccupied and alone.

"Well good news, jerk, there are no guards blocking the door." Akihito shoved himself off the wall of the elevator and made his way into the hall.

"I told you that no one would be there." Asami said. The bastard sounded like he was smirking.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, you want a prize?" Akihito dryly asked, as he unlocked the door, relieved to finally be in the penthouse. He took off his shoes and let tranquility of the apartment seep in and he watched the setting sun that managed to make it way inside through the windows give way to warm, dying light that cascaded across the living room floor. It was nice to be home.

"I do, but I'll cash it in when you're feeling better."

"Oh boy, I can't wait." Akihito muttered. He walked to the guest room, where the spare bed was. Even though it's been months since Akihito slept in there, the sheets were cleaned and he didn't want to contaminate their- _Asami's_ bed with whatever it was that had made him sick.

An ill Asami was a force that Akihito did not want to relive anytime soon.

He quickly took off his jeans and light jacket that he was wearing, leaving him only in his briefs and a tank top. As he tumbled into bed, he moaned with relief as he got comfortable and pulled the comforter over his head.

"Okay," He murmured to Asami, "'m in bed now."

"Alright, sleep well."

Akihito could tell that their call was coming to an end but he still wasn't ready to let Asami go. He tried to keep the conversation going, "Hey, Asami?"

"Yes, Akihito?" His voice was soft, matching Akihito's tone and made Akihito shiver slightly despite the warmth that he was gathering under his blanket. Asami's rich voice sounded so nice in his ear, so soothing, he wanted Asami to keep talking until Akihito fell asleep.

But he seriously had a question for Asami. "What was the goon's name?"

Asami chuckled, "His name is Maki Shou. It was his first day on the job."

Akihito snickered, "Well nothing says, "Welcome to the team" quite like getting puked on."

"I guess we can skip the usual hazing ritual this time."

"What? You seriously haze your men?" Akihito asked, surprised. The resounding silence that followed told Akihito that Asami was pulling his chain. "Bastard." This made Asami give a low chuckle.

"You should be going to sleep, Akihito" Asami said, but didn't really sound like he was in a rush to get Akihito off the phone.

"I will," Akihito murmured, it was getting harder for him to keep his eyes open. The bed was very comfortable. "I am." He rolled on to his side, phone still pressed to his ear. He listened to Asami breathe softly in the mic of the phone; it was almost like he was here beside him. The only missing was a strong arm that would wrap around him, pulling him close to Asami's chest and making it very difficult to wanting to get out of bed again.

God, he hates that he misses him this much.

"Will you be home late?" Akihito already knew the answer, he was just stalling.

"Yes." Asami didn't give him a time.

"Well, you're going to have get your own dinner. I'm not able to cook tonight."

"I'll manage."

Akihito insisted, "It needs to be more than just scotch and cigarettes, Asami."

Asami huffed, "I will. No need to be worried, Akihito."

"I'm not! I'm just...saying." Akihito finished, weakly.

"Go to sleep, brat."

Akihito hummed. He was about to hang up but then a thought came to him. "Wait, Asami."

Asami sighed, "Yes, Akihito?"

"Could...could you get some of that soup that we had at that fancy restaurant we went to last month?" It would be something light that he could eat after he woke up from his nap. Plus, it was really good soup.

"Yeah," Asami said, a certain softness that Akihito was falling love with creeping into his voice, "Yeah, I'll send some soup over to you."

"Okay, I'm going to bed now." Akihito slurred, finally letting the exhaustion take over him. "Have a good rest of your day."

"Thanks. Now go to sleep."

At the mention of sleep, a yawn escaped Akihito, "Okay, g'night." His eyes closing as he heard Asami wish him a good night in return before he drifted off to sleep.

Asami listened to Akihito breathing even out for a few more minutes before finally hanging up, a small smile on his face before turning to Kirishima. He had some soup to order.


End file.
